


i take as much as i can get (i don't take any regret)

by ikvros



Category: Given (Anime), Given (Manga)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Crossdressing, Dirty Talk, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-breakup, Rough Oral Sex, akihiko's inferiority issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:48:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29770893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikvros/pseuds/ikvros
Summary: “It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Aki?”Akihiko lifts his chin away from Ugetsu’s smile and the sharp teeth it conceals, staring down at him in bewilderment. “You mean—since we’ve…”“Since I’ve sucked your cock,” Ugetsu says, lifting his own face in kind, rolling up onto the balls of his feet until he’s close enough to bite. “You like it when I do that, right?”After losing the Mister Contest to Ugetsu, Akihiko recieves his runner-up reward.
Relationships: Kaji Akihiko/Murata Ugetsu
Comments: 13
Kudos: 32





	i take as much as i can get (i don't take any regret)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [llyn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/llyn/gifts).



> hello! i'm back! the movie made me fall for these two all over again! have this akigetsu pwp! 
> 
> [this](https://twitter.com/itszhoubai/status/1329320295841185792?s=20) art (and llyn, bless her) made want to write about ugetsu giving head so badly, and then i started thinking about the school festival extra (ch 31.5), and subsequently akihiko and ugetsu dressed in sailor girl outfits, and also the jealousy ugetsu felt about the mere _idea_ of akihiko holding some girl's hand, AND the fact that akihiko didn't seem perturbed about ugetsu doing so at all. so, ta-da!
> 
> obviously they are both in high school here, so read on at your own discretion. please enjoy!

Akihiko’s barely closed the door to the basement behind himself when Ugetsu crowds him up against it. He’s got that gleam in his eye that means trouble, means Akihiko’s head is about to start spinning in one direction or the other. Akihiko’s schoolbag falls to the floor with a _thunk._ Ugetsu’s palms flatten against the door on either side of him, holding him there, gazing up at him like he’s something to eat.

Akihiko swallows. “What’s gotten into you?”

Ugetsu had been fine the entire walk home—pleasant, even, laughing, rubbing his little Mister Contest victory in Akihiko’s face. A sudden shift in Ugetsu’s mood is neither uncommon nor surprising; what’s surprising is that it’s shifted in _this_ direction with no discernible trigger.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Aki?”

Akihiko lifts his chin away from Ugetsu’s smile and the sharp teeth it conceals, staring down at him in bewilderment. “You mean—since we’ve…” 

“Since I’ve sucked your cock,” Ugetsu says, lifting his own face in kind, rolling up onto the balls of his feet until he’s close enough to bite. “You like it when I do that, right?”

Akihiko’s eyes widen. “Well. I. Uh. _Yeah._ But—”

Ugetsu doesn’t listen to him. He drops back down, and then kneels without fanfare.

There goes Akihiko’s head, rolling down the basement stairs.

“Wait!” he says, though he makes no move at all to keep Ugetsu from undoing his belt. “Does this have something to do with the contest? Because—”

“Shut up,” Ugetsu says, nimbly unbuttoning his uniform pants. “You’re an idiot, you know that?”

Akihiko’s cock starts to chub up at that, the sight of Ugetsu on his knees, the cold shock of his fingertips laid against Akihiko’s abdomen, dipping into the band of his underwear. “I just don’t get it,” Akihiko says, even as he pleads with himself to shut the hell up. Does his boyfriend _need_ a reason to give him head?

Ugetsu pauses and looks up at him with something like irritation. “It didn’t bother you at all that I had to hold hands with the _Miss?”_

Akihiko raises his brows. Is _that_ what this is? Ugetsu’s upset because—because Akihiko didn’t feel jealous of some random girl who held Ugetsu’s hand for five seconds? Because he was more caught up in the disappointment of losing the prize money than he was concerned about a yearbook photo-op? She hadn’t even crossed his mind.

“No,” he says, scrambling for his words, “I. I wasn’t looking at her at all.”

Ugetsu’s head tilts. “No?”

Akihiko shakes his head. “Besides that, you aren’t interested in women.”

“Oh? How would you know?”

“You’re not,” Akihiko says. “Wait. Are you?”

“Idiot,” Ugetsu sighs, reaching up with one hand to loosen his tie before he nuzzles into Akihiko’s half-hard cock. Akihiko sucks in a sharp breath, hips tilting into the pressure of Ugetsu’s cheek. He fills out quickly as Ugetsu begins to lightly mouth at him over the fabric; it’s a teasing gesture, the briefest suggestion of friction, of warmth and wetness wherever he ghosts his breath.

“Who were you looking at, then?” Ugetsu asks. Shamelessly, because he knows and wants to hear it.

“You,” Akihiko says, without remark, because he’s hard-pressed to deny Ugetsu anything he wants when his mouth is so close to Akihiko’s dick.

Akihiko had stolen every glance he could get, in truth, during the moments he wasn’t self-consciously tugging at his own ill-fitting skirt or the too-tight shirt stretched across his chest. Even the largest size had been unaccommodating for a man of his stature, but Ugetsu’s fit him perfectly. It had zipped right up, fallen in all the places it was supposed to fall, because everything about Ugetsu's body is delicately proportioned.

“I thought about it,” Akihiko admits. “About doing this while we were wearing the sailor outfits.”

“Pervert,” Ugetsu says, but Akihiko feels the smile against his hip before Ugetsu’s fingertips dip again into the waistband his underwear and pull them down. Akihiko’s cock springs free, heavy and leaking, and he gathers the bottom of his uniform shirt in his hand so that he can witness that first brush of Ugetsu’s mouth against it, the first warm, pink dart of his tongue.

Ugetsu says, against the sensitive skin, “How did you imagine it would be?”

Akihiko tilts his head back against the wall with an appreciative sound as Ugetsu takes him into his mouth. “I thought about fucking you,” he says.

The ease of it. Bending Ugetsu over a desk, pushing his skirt up over his ass, and lifting his own just enough to nudge his cock against Ugetsu’s hole. He’d slide in slow, easy, with nothing in the way, and it would feel like this, like suction and pressure and white-hot bliss.

“Mm,” Ugetsu hums, and the vibration of it around Akihiko’s cock makes his hips jerk, once, hard, shoving himself further into Ugetsu’s mouth.

Ugetsu makes a noise and pulls off in retribution, trailing wet, messy kisses down the underside, letting it rest against his cheek as he works his way down. He doesn’t touch it otherwise; his hands come to rest on Akihiko’s hips, holding them there lest they move on their own again. “Go on,” he says, and then he’s nosing at Akihiko’s balls, laving them with his tongue, taking them gently, sweetly into his mouth.

Akihiko’s fingers twitch at his sides, empty, restrained. Anything else at this point is dangerous. “I thought about— _mmn_ —sucking you off. Making you come.”

Ugetsu’s thighs around his ears, legs over his shoulders, skirt fanned over his head like a blanket. Sucking Ugetsu’s cock in that hot, tight space, breathing the intoxicating musk of his sweat and skin, spurred on by the urgent whining in his ear, the fingers digging meanly into his shoulder.

“And what happens after that?” Ugetsu sounds breathless, now. “How would you want to come? In my mouth?”

One of Ugetsu’s hands wraps suddenly around Akihiko’s cock, fingers very tight around the base.

“I—shit—”

It moves, barely, stroking him in short, spit-slick strokes. It’s borderline torture, friction so far from where Akihiko wants it, where Ugetsu _knows_ he wants it. 

“In my ass?” Ugetsu wonders, like he’s talking about the weather. He leans forward and laps at the head, and Akihiko outright moans, trembling with the restraint it takes to let Ugetsu string him along like this. All he wants to do is grab a fistful of Ugetsu’s hair and fuck his dirty mouth. “Or maybe you’d just want to soil my uniform.”

Akihiko clenches his eyes shut and thinks of it. Thinks of pulling out just in time, coming over the bunched up pleating of Ugetsu’s skirt, that little flash of skin above his waistband. Thinks of Ugetsu on his back, teary-eyed, his pristine, crisply-pressed top ruined ten times over.

“Oh,” Ugetsu says. “You like that idea.”

There’s sweat beading at Akihiko’s brow, uncomfortable heat beneath his unbuttoned collar. “Shit—Ugetsu, please. _Please.”_

“Hm? What do you want?”

“Let me,” Akihiko says, swallowing, looking down again, running his tongue across his dry lips. “I wanna touch you.”

“Is that all?” Ugetsu’s eyes have gone soft, molten, a little sad.

Akihiko dares to reach out, and Ugetsu doesn’t flinch as Akihiko’s fingers brush his cheekbone. He allows it the way a sunbathing cat might allow itself to be pet, tail flicking. Akihiko smears the pad of his thumb across Ugetsu’s lower lip and finds it damp, warm, inviting. He wants to lean down and lick into Ugetsu’s mouth; eat him from the inside out.

Another time. Later, maybe.

Ugetsu blinks at him slowly. “What are you waiting for, then?” he murmurs against Akihiko’s thumb.

 _That,_ Akihiko thinks, the lidded heaviness of Ugetsu’s eyes, the needy lean of him into Akihiko’s touch. For him to be done playing, done teasing, for this burst of spite to have tired itself out. 

He takes himself in his hand, and Ugetsu opens his mouth, lazy, perfectly stilled. Akihiko pushes his cock between his lips, and Ugetsu doesn’t stop him, doesn’t touch him, doesn’t look away. Cautiously, Akihiko sets his palm against the crown of Ugetsu’s head and guides him down.

Ugetsu goes easily. Akihiko watches his cock disappear inside his mouth, feels every inch sink across his tongue until Ugetsu’s nose is pressed right up against his skin. He feels the involuntary gag around the head of his dick as Ugetsu’s body attempts to expel it from his throat; revels in the loud, wet noise of it.

“Fuck,” Akihiko breathes out, amazed. Ugetsu’s throat contracts again, and he gags more severely this time, jerking back to cough and heave, wiping the back of his hand across his spit-covered mouth and glaring up at Akihiko with watery eyes.

“I still have to breathe,” he says roughly.

“Sorry,” Akihiko says, but he’s already pushing Ugetsu back down, twisting his fingers in his hair. He doesn’t shove Ugetsu to his limit again, but he moves as he pleases, fucking into him slowly, savoring the feeling.

Ugetsu is beautiful like this. It’s different from how he looks when he’s playing the violin, from when he’s laughing or speaking or sleeping soundly in their bed. All of Ugetsu’s focus is on _this,_ on Akihiko, on giving and giving and giving.

The desire Akihiko feels to take—dark, ruinous, terrifying—rises in him like a wave. The afternoon light filtering down from the window catches Ugetsu’s eyes, turns the tears in his lashes to diamonds, and Akihiko finds himself wanting to catch them somehow, to store them in a box and keep them locked indefinitely away.

There’s a shuffling, a quiet series of _clinks,_ and Akihiko peers down to find Ugetsu undoing his own belt, reaching inside his uniform pants. And that. That does it. The thought of Ugetsu getting off to this, touching himself to touching Akihiko, the quiet moan around his cock—it’s so good he can’t help the sudden, violent forward-shove of his hips.

Ugetsu chokes, but he doesn’t pull off this time. He takes it, clenches his eyes shut, and Akihiko can’t stop, can’t look away from his face, can’t do anything but hold Ugetsu close and use him to chase that feeling into oblivion.

“You’re so good,” he pants, barely hearing himself over the lewd squelching of his cock as he fucks Ugetsu’s mouth, his throat, the blood pounding hard and fast in his ears. His fingers tighten in Ugetsu’s hair. “Ugetsu. Fuck, I’m gonna come.”

Ugetsu wrenches back from him and coughs, hard, tears streaming freely down his face as Akihiko grabs his wet cock and strokes it quickly, groaning as his climax tears through him. He curses, every muscle in his body seizing at the height of it, the unfurling pleasure, the toe-curling satisfaction of watching Ugetsu’s face get striped in his cum.

Ugetsu doesn’t flinch, doesn’t open his eyes or move at all except to part his lips for the prettiest, filthiest sound Akihiko’s ever heard come out of his mouth.

Akihiko thinks, then, that Ugetsu looks nothing like the proud, brilliant soloist he is on stage, the untouchable boy from the music room. Never has Ugetsu looked so wrecked, so brought-low. The world has never seen him like this, never _will_ see him like this no matter how far he goes. This is the part of Ugetsu that belongs to Akihiko alone; this is what he can have, for as long as Ugetsu is willing to let him have it.

This is as good as it’s ever going to get.

Akihiko tilts his head back against the door, panting. He comes down slowly, lets the pleasure of release wash through him like the first few drags of a cigarette. He could go for one right about now.

“Now,” Ugetsu says after a minute, “wasn’t that a better prize than the money?”

Akihiko opens his eyes and glances blearily down at Ugetsu’s softening cock. He must have come, too, at some point. “I—yeah,” he says, still out of breath, watching Ugetsu wipe the worst of things away from his eyes before he dares to open them. “But was that…ah. Was that really okay?”

Ugetsu grins like he always does, like his face isn’t covered in all kinds of fluids, his and Akihiko’s both. “You mean can I still speak and eat properly? Let’s hope so.”

Akihiko frowns. Guilt begins to gnaw at him, guilt about what he did, what he said, what he _thought._ “I didn’t mean to—”

“Yes you did,” Ugetsu says matter-of-factly, getting to his feet, wiping his dirty hands on the thighs of his pants before he strips them off with his underwear and shoves them at Akihiko. “Stop looking so depressed. It was fun. If I can still practice, it’s fine, right?” Ugetsu pulls his tie loose, shucks out of his shirt, and uses them to wipe the drying cum from his face.

“But—” 

“I’m going to take a bath,” Ugetsu says, shoving those soiled clothes into Akihiko’s arms, too. “You do the laundry. And start dinner. Or order take-out. I don’t care.”

With that, completely naked, Ugetsu turns and walks unhurriedly down the stairs. Akihiko watches on in stunned silence. He can’t even bring himself to care about the wetness he feels soaking through his own button-up, or the fact that his dick is still out in the middle of the entryway.

“Maybe next time we can try it with the skirts,” he calls after Ugetsu, belatedly.

“Ha! Only if you actually win the next contest,” Ugetsu calls back. He doesn’t specify which kind. The door to the washroom closes with a click.

 _In your dreams_ is what it sounds like. But that’s okay. Akihiko won’t be dreaming of anything but this for a long time coming.

**Author's Note:**

> listen to my akigetsu [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2yBplRPf4GJjnnJnNNBBF5?si=x-6w4l3RSUyRezUFgXIS1Q&nd=1) or find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/ikvros)!
> 
> thanks so much for reading ♥


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